Sirens
by Kahuna Burger
Summary: Zuko knows that beautiful singing women at sea are actually a bad thing, but how to stop Sokka from going to them? Yaoi, mild lemon, just a little thing for fun. No particular time in season one.


**Standard disclaimers apply.**

**Warnings : male/male sexytimes. Also, in medias res.**

The lights of the pirate ship had barely faded away behind them, and Zuko was ready to consider them safe and start thinking about how to navigate to shore on a cloudy night when he heard it. The voices. Beautiful singing that could only come from beautiful creatures, lovely angels who wanted him to come to them, perfect and-

No. Even as he reached the tiller to steer them to the call, he remembered the stories his uncle had told, the jumble of rumors and warnings and fears Zuko had heard from the older crewmen on his ship. They were in a lot of danger.

He tried to find a meditative calm. Push aside the feeling, push it down, think for just this moment. That sound was predators. Not perfect desire, just their desire for _(me they want me as much as I want them and if I go to them we'll have each other) _blood. Turn the boat away. He could do this. Maintain control just this long, long enough to pull the tiller over to put them in a long sweeping course port of the_ (beautiful wonderful perfect want them so much) _predators. Tie it to the railing to hold that position. Then just kneel on the deck, and focus on not moving until-

Until he remembered that he wasn't alone on the boat, and the source of the screams to steer starboard, starboard curse it which he'd been trying to block out with with the _(love them want them have to go to them) _predators' calls tackled him out of the way of the tiller and started tearing at the knots in a crazed frenzy.

Crap, the Water Tribe boy. Couldn't just kill him or throw him overboard, they had a truce. His honor pledged to working together until they got to shore and then to parting ways for a full day before he took up the search for the Avatar again. Zuko grabbed him instead, pulled him to the middle of the boat, maybe he could tie him to the mast?

Or maybe he could get punched in the jaw so hard his head spun. "Let me go, I have to go to them! Can't you hear them you crazy bastard, they're calling, I need them!"

So much for a truce, Water Tribe were without honor, now he could just- no, the peasant wasn't rational, didn't have the meditation training or knowledge of these _(lovely needed wanted) _things that was all Zuko was hanging on by. "Listen to me, they aren't what you think, they're" _(mine curse you they're mine calling me I need them more than you)_ "blood spirits trying to lure us, we have to stay-" Another punch cut him off and it was really hard to maintain a meditative calm with an idiot punching you.

On the other hand, being angry at the idiot punching you was a fairly good distraction from lust inducing blood spirits, and if he couldn't set the insolent peasant on fire, knocking him down on the deck and getting a good punch in himself would have to do. It was even justified as trying to help him. Sort of.

"I said listen, we"_ (have to need to must) _"can't go to them!" He managed to get a wrist in each hand and pinned the other boy down, wondering how long he could hold him. "They want to" _(love fuck heal hold) _"kill us, you idio-Ah?"

The idiot was arching up into him and oh that felt so good, not as good as his lust was trying to convince him the_ (angels beauties) _predators would be, but it was warm friction and he ground down to meet it. As his head dropped down, he saw the tribesman raise his, and for just a moment he thought it was an attack, but instead there were lips meeting his and a tongue taking up residence in his mouth. The Water Tribe boy tasted pretty good, and he was a better kisser than Zuko would have expected. And this was better than trying to kill them both by steering into the _(beautiful) _blood spirits.

Not that any of that was going to let the little peasant get away with trying to be in charge of this kiss.

The prince ground his hips down harder, startling a gasp out of the other boy and giving him a chance to push the tongue out of his mouth and attack with his own. Okay, so Water Tribe tasted **really** good, and the way he kept trying to push back and take control again added an active passion to the kiss that had never been there when Zuko would let serving girls at the colony ports climb in his lap. There had never been any real desire then, just girls who wanted to say that they had kissed a prince, even an ugly, banished one, and a boy who needed a little human contact that wasn't violence. But this...

He realized the peasant was still trying to free his wrists, in spite of the enthusiasm with which he was pressing his hips up into Zuko's and when they broke the kiss for a moment to breath, he heard him groaning out words.

"Off, gotta get these clothes off, lemme go you jerk, need my hands..."

The idiot probably didn't have enough brain power to come up with a lie and attack again, and he had a point about the clothes, so Zuko decided to release him and use his own hands for the infinitely more important task of destroying all cloth standing between their bodies. The process ended up involving more tearing and burning than actual undressing, but neither boy particularly cared, and soon the prince was lost in the taste of the peasant's neck, the feel of bare flesh against his, even the sight of their different skin tones moving together in the moonlight was unbearably erotic.

He could still hear the (_lovely_) voices but they would take effort to get to and the Water Tribe boy was** right here **and moving against him, soft skin over hard, tight muscles, and a hand was squirming between their bodies to touch both of them together... which was a really good idea, and maybe the peasant wasn't such an idiot in matter of sex. Zuko propped himself up on one arm to give just enough space to slip his own hand between them as well, a bizarre sort of handshake around their flesh.

Now this? This was nice. Seriously, unbearably, 'don't have anything better to do for a day or so' nice. And over the voices he could hear a closer, more real voice whispering semi-coherent words of appreciation and encouragement, and suggestions for what else they could be doing. Some of which weren't half bad.

Fuck the blood spirits. Well, not literally. Literally it looked like he would be fucking Sokka, and those sailor murdering bitches could just keep providing the background music.

**A/N : Hrm, I could continue with lemon, continue with drama the morning after, or just leave it be... decisions, decisions... ;-p**


End file.
